


Bruised and Bandaged.

by jjwritesthings



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Family, I gave up halfway through so, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Hatred, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has PTSD (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, beta read? sorta, first time posting! I've written before but please don't kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjwritesthings/pseuds/jjwritesthings
Summary: Phil had seen his three sons at their worst.That was until he found his youngest bleeding out in the snow in the middle of the night.Phil had seen his three sons at their lowest.Or so he thought.
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 566
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Found family to make me feel something, MCYT Fic Rec, mcyt favorites





	Bruised and Bandaged.

**Author's Note:**

> hello there!! I know this fic is unbelievably late and way behind canon but all the canon that's happening right now has been killing me so I'm gonna post what I want. who cares. 
> 
> Also, CW and TW for this!! There is some stuff about self harm and abuse, so please do not read if you feel you cannot handle it. Stay safe everyone <3
> 
> Anyways enjoy!! I'm such a sucker for the SBI Family Dynamic so take it kay bye

Phil had seen his three sons at their worst. Or he thought he did- at least for Wilbur in his last moments. 

He’d seen Techno at his lowest, a bloodlust look in his eyes from a young age as he sparred with his brothers, the same one he inevitably gave the youngest when he put a conflicted land to rest for a while. The inhumane agility of his actions when fighting with Phil, and how his complete silence during it all roared louder than anything Phil has ever heard during his life. He hadn’t seen it recently however, with Techno going into retirement, trying to rebuild himself as a peaceful man, which he tried so hard to achieve whilst dealing with bloodthirsty voices in his head.

“The voices Phil- they demand blood.”

Phil had seen the world go through hell a thousand times over, and somehow, seeing his youngest son laying in the snow, red and white top torn, exposed skin tattered with scars, cuts and bruises, looking close to that of his other ghost of a son- somehow he knew this was so much worse.

Collecting up the too frail, too lean, broken body of his son, he quickly dragged himself through the thick snow of the polar north and towards Techno’s little spruce and stone cottage. The house stood tall and tucked away amongst the trees in silence as Phil made his way to the entrance of the house, pushing himself on the door to get inside, his hands full with his unconscious son. He heard Techno upstairs in the kitchen, and decided that he’d probably need help to clean up Tommy and get him into some new clothes and a warm bed- Jesus did he feel like an icicle.

He exhaled strongly as he ascended up the stairs, trying to release the neverending stress that was bubbling up inside his mind. The whirlpool of questions and anger, misery and utter shock all violently swirled around in his head, and he started to feel dizzy from it. He knew he had to get Tommy somewhere safe first, so he tried to keep his head up and focused on finding Techno. 

The surely loud knocking of his boots against the wood must have alerted Techno, and as soon as Phil got to the top, Techno turned towards Phil.

“Hey, you’re bac-” Techno cut himself off as he saw who was in Phi’s arms. They stood there both in silence, as the crackle from the fire nearby filled in the tense atmosphere. Phil watched his eldest son tighten and loosen his fists like contractions, he could almost feel the pure anger radiating off him. He didn’t need to feel Techno’s though, he was in equal parts angry. He could hear Techno’s breaths in the silence, and they had become shallow and heavy from the anger, but trying to push down and not create an outburst.

All Techno did was look at Tommy, which seemed to help as his tensed shoulders relaxed a little. He exhaled out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and looked back up to Phil. 

“Is this how you found him?” It was almost completely forced out of his mouth as he said it, gritting his teeth. He knew from looking at his brother’s weak figure that Tommy himself wouldn’t be able to do...well, all of this damage- the cuts, bruises, bleeding, brokenness\- to himself.

He would have needed some sort of help. 

Help. It was a horrible word to associate with what Techno saw in front of him. It was the wrong word, in every sense. Everything he saw in front of him felt wrong, looked wrong. He saw his younger brother, a usually abrasive, arrogant, annoying, loud teenage boy with too much chest to puff out and too much to say, almost rigid and still in his father’s arms, apart from the slow and rhythmic breathing of his lungs. 

Phil looked at Techno again before looking down to Tommy. It hurt to look at him this way, his bruised and bloody face so calm yet in such pain. Phil felt his throat tighten at the sight. It was too much to bear. How Tommy was at all, he had no idea.

He nodded, staring down at the floor to avoid staring at his youngest son. “Yeah, in….he was just lying there, in the snow. I’m glad I found him when I did. Any longer and-” And he would have died.

How close was- is he to dying still?

Techno nodded slowly to reflect that he understood. Phil was struggling to cope with the whole situation, his mind going at a hundred miles an hour, a million things going through his head- he was lying there, bloodied, in the fucking snow- you left your son to die in the freezing cold of the polar north- you left your son in exile and never even visited him- how can anyone forgive you? Why does Techno still keep you around? Why does he still call you his father? You’re a terrible father- look what’s happened to him- he’s almost dead- he’s dying- you’re killing another son- you’re killing another kid- look at his face- look at him- look a t wh a t y o u ‘ v e d o n e.

“Dad?” Phil snapped out of his trance and took in a breath. He didn’t even realise he had been struggling for air, or that he was hyperventilating. Techno was close to him now, a warm hand on his shoulder which had started to calm him down and ground him. He looked up to meet Techno’s eyes, and he was met with dark red eyes which were swimming with subtle concern. “Sorry,” was all that he could muster to the pinkette in the end. The grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly, and he looked down again. 

God, he was so weak and pathetic. A useless father who couldn’t even be strong in front of his eldest son, who needed comforting when he couldn’t look his other almost dead son, who needed-

The hand was stroking his hair now, and though he felt embarrassed, Phil couldn’t find himself to care at that moment; he was beyond exhausted. “Let’s get him on the couch and then we can talk, yeah?” Techno kept threading his fingers through the blonde’s hair and all Phil did was nod, and headed over to the couch. 

Putting Tommy on the couch gently, Phil made quick work of finding as many furs and blankets as he could fit into his arms, and then arranged them on Tommy so that he could be as warm as possible. He didn’t realise in the flurry of it all that Techno had been trying to say something to him, he had been so focused on keeping Tommy warm and healthy and safe-

“We’ll need to clean him up and those bandages,” Right. Well. At least one of them was thinking coherently. 

He looked towards Tommy again, his face was somewhat more peaceful then it was when he was laying out there, alone in the snow. “I’ll get some healing potions and bandages,” Techno nodded at that, and his eyes followed his father as he started to make his way to the ladder downstairs. Phil stopped before he went down, his eyes never leaving the ground. “Look after him, Techno. Just...stay there, with him.” The ‘please’ went unsaid but all the more understood. The silence was taken as agreement and while Techno made his way over to wear his little brother lay, his father made his way down the ladder. 

\---

Techno pulled out a stool next to fire and sat next to Tommy, tucked underneath a thousands furs and soft blankets from Phil, who was sleeping like a log on the red couch in front of the fireplace. He had been staring at his brother earlier when Phil was panicking with him in his arms in the middle of the kitchen, but he wanted to get a proper look at him. He would have to help change the bandages and heal him up later anyways.

Slowly, he quietly made his way over to the blonde, and started to lightly remove some of the furs. Tommy shifted a little from the newfound cold, and shivered, but didn’t wake, and Techno let out a relieved sigh. He couldn’t wake Tommy now, it would be for the worse. Peeling more layers of blanket and furs started to reveal more cuts and bruises and bumps than Techno remembered seeing when he was cradled in Phil’s arms, and looking up close, he was beginning to understand why Phil reacted the way he had. A sudden wave of anger came over him again. He needed to find out who did this and quick, before he started to set the whole world aflame himself. 

He assumed that Tommy was probably unconscious, as even when he made more sudden movements, he didn’t wake, only a slight stir. He threaded his fingers delicately through the younger blondes’ hair, and it made him give the faintest of smiles. It was the most fucked up situation for him to feel happiness in; seeing his brother for the first time since he blew up the nation both of his brothers had built, and then only visiting him in exile to...mock him. God, he was such a fucked up brother. He was glad, regardless the situation, but as soon as his eyes trailed down the younger’s body and he saw-

He saw red.  
There were multiple cuts across his brother's hands, where the bandages had become loose, and his fingers looked raw and calloused from the cold and something else. He didn’t want to disturb anything else, but the bandages looked so old and his brother looked so shattered and torn and damaged-

His hands were unwrapping the bandages before his mind could fully register what he was doing, and he tried to be as careful as possible as his mind caught up with what he was doing. Cautiously, he undid the bloodstained bandages and- 

His hands stilled. 

And Techno, the blood king, the blood god, a brother, a warrior, a son, an anarchist, a killer, a man everyone feared-

He broke down.

\---

Phil had gathered enough healing, regen and strength pots to last about three lifetimes over in his leather satchel, and stuffed in there were also more bandages than Tommy would probably need. He knew he was over compensating, but he couldn’t help himself; seeing his son on the brink of death makes you do stupid things, clearly. 

His eyes quickly darted around the piles of chests in the downstairs basement, trying half to occupy his mind, (he wasn’t ready to face seeing Tommy like that quite yet), and half thinking of what else Tommy could need. He eyes landed on the chest full of food, and he grabbed some meat and some apples, anything to get Tommy’s strength back and-

Well, his body too. 

Phil had found Tommy in a state almost mob-like, skeletal and thin, and while Tommy had always been lean, tall and lanky, this was something much different. He was so pale that he almost blended in with the snow itself, and Tommy’s ankles and wrist were protruding so much it took a lot of effort for Phil not to be sick right then and there.

He tried to shake those thoughts out of his head, deciding what he had collected would probably be enough for Tommy. He made his way over to the ladder once more, slowly ascended as he struggled with all the items he was carrying. It was exceedingly quiet in the kitchen, which Phil found normal, as Techno was usually quiet with his tasks, and well- Tommy was asleep. All that was heard was the creak of the ladder, the crackle of the fire and-

...the sound of crying. 

It was so soft that to someone who wasn’t paying attention, they probably wouldn’t have registered it, but Phil listened in to the faintest sounds of hitched breathing and hiccups. It was coming from where Tommy was laying on the couch. Was Tommy awake then? Was he still in pain? Phil quickly made his way up the ladder and quietly rushed over to where Tommy was and where Techno was-

Crying. Where Techno, his son, who barely showed any strong aspect of emotion, or any at all for that fact, there he found a son, known for merciless violence and a constant bloody sword next to him, crying over his brother’s sleeping frame. His breath hitched at the sight, and it startled Techno from staring at Tommy, and he teared his eyes away to look at Phil. Phil watched his son’s face, tear-blotchy cheeks and glassy eyes, and he nearly dropped the satchel and all the food in his arms to pull Techno into a tight hug. 

He had the smallest amount of common sense left, and hurriedly dropped all of the stuff on a nearby counter before kneeling before Techno and embracing him so tightly that he almost choked his son. They both said nothing as Techno quietly sobbed into Phil’s shoulders, staining the blue Antarctic Empire with tears, though Phil couldn’t care any less. Phil held his son tightly and coaxed him through his shuddering as he found himself working his fingers through soft pink hair. He didn’t even know what had gotten Techno to this state in the first place, but it didn’t take him long to find out, as his eyes made his way down to Tommy and the undid bandages around his arms which had old blood staining them and the marks on his arms that looked so much like Techno’s all those years ago-

He didn’t know when the lump in his throat had formed, and Phil found himself battling against crying himself or comforting Techno, who was already crying. He didn’t have to choose in the end, as Techno soon separated himself from the hug and wiped his face, which by then Phil had forgotten about sobbing himself. The piglin hybrid turned back to Tommy, who hadn’t shifted a centimetre even after all of Techno’s crying. He must either be immensely weak or tired. Or both.

He said nothing to Phil as he kept undoing the rest of the bandages with shaky hands. If either of them noticed, they said nothing about it. 

“Do you think he’s unconscious enough to put some of the healing and regen on him?” Techno’s voice came out slightly raspy and quieter than normal, near to a whisper. 

Phil paid little attention to the change in Techno’s voice and looked at Tommy solemnly. He knew that Tommy was a heavy sleeper, and that right then, he was probably so unconscious, not even the crash of cymbals could wake him. Though, it wouldn’t compare to the reaction that the potions would have on the cuts and wounds he had. 

He let out a deep sigh. “He might be knocked out enough to not be able to hear anything, but putting potions on wounds that deep it...he’ll wake up as soon as it touches him,”

“Should we just...clean them up then? Just with water. Then... we can see about tomorrow,”

It sounded like some sort of plan at least. Phil hadn’t been able to screw his head on properly for the last couple hours or so, so having even a loose schedule would help things for the both of them.

He patted Techno’s shoulder in reassurance, probably for the both of them, and then went back to where he had dropped the stuff on the counter. He took a cloth for cleaning the grime and blood and quickly dampened and heated it so that it wouldn’t wake Tommy or disturb him. He looked so fragile and it felt to Phil that any sudden movement or rough gesture would completely shatter the young boy to pieces. He grabbed the bandages from his satchel and then walked over to where Techno was, who had now gotten rid of all the bloodied old cloth, and where they laid on the floor. 

Techno watched over the boy, statue-still, and stared and stared and stared at the cuts on Tommy’s arms. It had been past the point of petrifying, and more at the point of pure shock and such a hatred for himself for not helping Tommy earlier, and a hatred for anyone else who would drive his little brother- his baby brother, who he had taught how to use a sword and how to plant potatoes with, to this extent. The sound of Phil shuffling to sit next to him on another stool pulled him out of his own mind where the voices were; they were getting too loud and unhelpful anyway.

Maybe he would listen to them another time.

The whispers hushed as his father began to speak. “Should we remove his shirt?” Phil’s own voice came out broken, as if the thought of touching Tommy without him knowing was unforgivable. 

“No.” Techno’s reply came in quick and short, and it had startled Phil and the ferocity of his tone.

“Alright.” 

They got to work on cleaning up Tommy. It was probably the hardest thing they’ve ever done, and it was even harder when they left Tommy alone on the couch, underneath all the blankets they had put on him again. It was near impossible for Phil to tear his eyes away from his son, and it needed Techno dragging him up the tower to stop him from sleeping on the floor next to Tommy for the night.

“He’ll be fine,” Techno had said, and Phil knew that he was saying that for the both of them.

“I know,” He knew Tommy would be fine. It’s not like he would be able to get far anyway. But he still wanted to- “I just want to-”

“Protect him. I know,”

A pregnant silence hung in the air, letting the ugly truth settle in.

Phil gripped Techno’s short as tight as he could. “This time Techno. This time I will.”

The two of them went to sleep that night with a one goal in mind:  
Protect my family.

\---

The crack of mellow light from the newborn sun made its way through any hole it could in Techno’s house, bursting its rays through the cracks and burning into anything it could touch. The light freckled the kitchen as the morning came, and the soft twitter of winter birds signaled a new day.

The world was calm that morning, a white haze covered the land around Techno’s land, the mist stretching for miles. It was silent, and it felt refreshing. 

What was not so refreshing however, was getting woken up by a literal ray of sunshine burning your eyes. Tommy woke up to white light in his eyes and the threat of being blinded by the fucking sun, and in that moment he forgot all about Dream blowing up his last home and hope, about running away, about blacking out in the middle of a snowy biome. All he cared about then was getting away from the harsh light, and he quickly tried to get up, not even noticing that he was on something soft. 

The ache in his back and well- probably every part of his body- didn’t help as he quickly pulled himself up to avoid complete blindness, the pain following every sudden move he made. Clearly the consequences of not being kind to his body had come and chased him down, and he groaned as he pulled himself up. He rubbed his eyes again, trying to adjust his eyes to his surroundings before he could begin to register where he even was. 

He knew he was on some sort of couch, the soft red furniture had clearly been his bed for the night. He tried racking his brain for what he remembered of yesterday, even though other parts of him were begging him not to, to stop remembering.

He went through yesterday:

His friend Dream came to visit him.  
He’s not your friend, he hurt you.  
Dream talked with him, he was kind.  
That was a façade, come on now.  
Dream had found the secret basement.  
Dream was angry.  
Dream had hit him. Hard.  
Tommy had betrayed his friend.  
He’s not your friend! Cut the bullshit Tommy.  
He had watched the dynamite set alight.  
Dream didn’t protect him from the blow.  
From the blow of the basement.  
From the blow of everything.

Everything was gone, Tommy realised. The shoddy little place he had temporarily called his home in exile, which Wil- Ghostbur had help him build; the little wooden area which he had put so much damn effort into even with Dream kept destroying his items every day- it was gone and it was all his fucking fault-

Tommy tried to breathe. He knew that he was in someone else’s house for sure, and he didn’t want to startle anyone awake.

Friends don’t destroy your things.  
Dream was the only one who visited in exile.  
Dream is the only one who has destroyed every home you’ve ever had.

This constant back and forth Tommy kept having with himself was tearing him apart, and he tried to stay focused on remembering yesterday again; anything to keep himself from spiraling again.

He had built a tower to see the stars.  
To see the world.  
He had told himself the truth.

‘He was just there to watch me.’

Tommy had jumped.  
Tommy had survived.

And Tommy had left.  
Tommy ran.

Tommy had ran away and left his friend, and Dream was going to be angry once he found out that Tommy was gone and then Dream was going to hurt him again and he would have to start over once more and he didn’t know how much more he could handle before he-

“Tommy?”

He whipped his head round so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. There from behind the couch, stood the figure of Phil, his father. He wore some relaxed trousers and a sleeping shirt, his hair still messy from sleeping. 

It was the most fucked up situation: he was happy to see his father, the very same one who had plunged a sword through his brother’s chest, the very same father who had raised him and love him despite Tommy’s insufferable character, the very same father who had never even visited him while Dream cut him down piece by piece. 

He was happy to see his dad, shitty situations and all.

“Dad?” A cracked reply with almost no air to it at all came out of his throat. It was hardly a question of identity, and rather a question of family. He could hardly care if he was seeing things again, or if this was some holy dream that had been blessed upon him from the gods, or if this was his own heaven. He was just glad that Phil ran to him with such happy hurry that for a split second it all felt real. No longer did the thought pass his mind, he was sitting in Phil’s gentle arms, being cradled gently on the couch which comfortably fitted the both of them. It felt so real.

“Is this heaven?” Tommy half-joked, half with genuine curiosity. 

Phil stilled from the comment, the hand where he had been stroking Tommy’s blonde hair coming to a stop. God, what had happened to Tommy? He quickly resumed weaving his hands through Tommy’s hair again. He couldn’t let Tommy know that something was wrong. Tommy had been through enough, he didn’t need even more baggage on his shoulders. 

“No,” replied Phil with a light chuckle. “I think if it was, I’d be dressed much nicer,”

Tommy doubled over in laughter, the quip sending him quickly into a fit of giggles. It did not however last long (most good things never seemed to for him), and the lighthearted fit of giggles quickly turned into heavy coughs and the burns of ribs. Tommy could almost feel every bruise, cut and probably broken bone in his body then as his fit continued, becoming increasingly more violent. He could feel how he had gotten some of them too, and it was like a paintbrush over his eyes as he remembered. A hard foot into his ribs, a kick to the shoulder, a fist to his stomach. He would look at the bruises, sometimes yellow, sometimes red and pink, sometimes blue and purple. He would look at them and think, ‘Why does the evidence of pain create art? Why do the consequences of his actions create a twisted beauty?’

Why did he want it all to stay?

“Oh Toms,” A soft sympathetic reply pulled him back to reality.

Tommy felt Phil’s hand on his back, a soft rhythmic stroke of ups and downs as Phil helped to calm down his coughing fit. This one wasn’t like his past ones though, no, because those had involved more blood being coughed out, and more tears in his eyes. This one was just sore ribs and the shiver which thrilled his whole body as his father tried to heal him with just a comforting hand and sweet, soft, honied words. 

He’s being pulled in again, and he flinches slightly from it as his head rests on the warm chest of Phil. Everything felt like it was spinning, but not in that way where you felt dizzy. It was in that way where you didn’t really understand what was going on, but something good was happening; you felt fixed in between the limbo of reality and dreamland, and everything was slightly fuzzy, and everything was warm. 

Tommy faintly heard the sound of someone descending the ladder from where Phil had been, but ignored it, simply accepting the blurred lines between his own believed reality and solid truth. He only gripped Phil’s sleeping shirt, trying to ground him into that space again, but somehow it pulled him into what seemed like Phil’s own reality; the solid truth. He didn’t dare- or want- to look over to where the sound was coming from, but he knew it was another person. 

Another person...where..where he had gone to find his brother. Where he knew his family lived when he was out with Dream. Where he had decided to run to, without barely a second thought. The person that lived in the middle of a snowy biome and was his brother.

Techno.

Footsteps came closer to where Phil and Tommy lay on the couch, and as they eased closer, Tommy tensed his shoulders. Phil felt it immediately, trying to comfort Tommy. “Tommy, hey buddy, it’s alright, it’s just Techno.” Tommy didn’t relax, and Phil understood. Immediately, he understood.

And although there had always been that unfilled space between Techno and Tommy since they were so very young, this age old misunderstanding of each other’s personalities, their wants, their desires, the want for the other’s approval, although Techno was betrayed by his brother and then did him one and betrayed him back, after all of that. He understood too. 

Techno, as quickly as he entered the kitchen and saw his brother, started to retreat, but his father’s small voice stopped him. “Techno,” His feet held like concrete. “Don’t- think like that. It’s not because of you. It’s...because of him. Come on, just- see your brother.” And Techno gave up and made his way over to his brother and father.

He sat next to Phil on the stool from last night, and watched Tommy with soft concentration and even softer movements, feeling as though any creak in the floorboard or any scratch of a chair would scare Tommy into running away or crumbling into a mess of tears. He didn’t want to hurt his brother more than he had already.

Phil kept his movements consistent, a hands rubbed Tommy’s back to calm him down while his wings wrapped around him slightly. Soon enough Tommy calmed down again, getting used to his brother’s presence in the warm room as his breaths evened out. All he focused on was Phil’s hand on his back and the crackle of the fireplace, Phil’s heartbeat and his hands on the sleeping shirt. 

“Where am I?” Tommy finally said after the minutes had ticked away painfully for both Phil and Techno.

“We’re at Techno’s house bubs,” Phil replied softly, trying to make the sound of Techno sound more safe to Tommy.

Tommy broke away from the embrace and looked around the kitchen, purposefully avoiding Techno’s gaze and him completely. The house, although owned by a former war criminal, was quaint and warm. The edges of the cottage were softly rounded and it was spacious yet cozy.  
Tommy scoffed, it hurt his ribs. “Yeah right, this place?” It was too quaint for Techno, ‘The Blade’, a violent killer with no mercy, a man known for chaos. “Shouldn’t he be living in a castle or some shit?”

“He has a name, Tommy,” Techno butted in, not really any bite to his words. Whether that was because he didn’t mean it or didn’t want to scare Tommy, well- he didn’t dwell on it.

Tommy looked down at the floor, his eyes slowly making his way to where Techno’s shoes sat. He refused to look his brother in the eyes. Half because he wouldn’t let Techno have the privilege of seeing Tommy frail (well, that had already failed) and half because Tommy was afraid of him. A deep dread was carved into his heart when he saw his brother, after the 16th, after the Withers. 

Tommy stays silent, and Techno continues. “I guess retirement made me domestic,” It earned him another scoff from Tommy. “Sure thing big man,”

A hum sat in the air, and the fire crackled on. For once oddly, Tommy’s mind wasn’t spinning or running at a hundred miles an hour, he didn’t feel like his head might burst. He still didn’t really know where he was and how he'd even ended up in the coldest biome ever, and somehow made it into Techno’s home. Even without knowing all that his head was calm. 

“So- just to get one thing straight,” Tommy rubbed his eyes again as his eyebrows furrowed, trying to recall how he had gotten into the situation he was currently in. He had left Logstedshire, he knew that, and he had walked, and walked, and walked, and then...fog. It’s a blur, from there. “How exactly did I end up in Techno’s house, in the snowiest biome I’ve ever seen?” He raised his head up to look at Phil once more.

Phil answered him first silently with a concerned look. It was strange enough that Tommy didn’t remember how he had ended up almost dead, bruised and bloody under a pile of snow in the middle of the night, but even stranger was the fact that he was….co-operating? Phil had always known his youngest son to be boisterous and loud, swearing obscenely and reacting with...teenage grace. This version of his son, broken and cold and quiet, it pulled Phil’s heart in all the wrong directions. 

“You don’t remember?” Phil asked carefully. Tommy shook his head. Phil looked over to Techno, who had his arms crossed and had his brows furrowed, deep in thought. He sighed.

“I found you not too far outside of the house, just...lying there. Tommy- you-” Phil found a lump at his throat which he tried to fight off and choke down as he remembered last night’s events like an arrow to the heart. He gripped Tommy’s shirt a little tighter. “You were there, lying in the snow with all your…” With all your scars and bruises. With all your broken bones and twisted ankles. With all that pain I could have prevented if I had just been there. It went unsaid. It went...somewhat understood.

Techno watched his father, who was in pain from his guilt, and felt anger. There was that same guilt, pain, fear, shame in him as well, sure, but anger is what flooded Techno’s mind. It shouldn’t have happened to his baby brother. He had always told himself, an unspoken law, that he would protect his brother, even if that meant sometimes from himself. And Techno had gone and failed. 

Anger. Anger for not protecting Tommy enough and anger for whoever had the guts to push his brother this far. He was trying to keep the frustration on a tight lock though, any sort of outburst and Tommy would probably disappear into a cloud of dust. He decided to watch him instead, grateful for the silence. It almost made him invisible Tommy, and he could see it, in the way Tommy didn’t look so tense he might crack. 

It didn’t hurt, it didn’t.

He looked over to where Tommy’s clean bandages on his arms were. 

It did.

Bringing up his fists to his mouth, he stared at Tommy’s arms. He was begging himself not to bring it up, knowing it would cause the whole of them pain, but he was reminded of a similar interaction he and Phil had when he was younger.

\---

“Why do you talk about it?” Techno shook, his childish and broken voice broke through.

“Because it helps you to heal. To fight it, Techno.” Phil’s voice warmed him, like it always had when comforting the kid.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Techno’s voice shakily replies. He doesn’t want to hurt anymore. It’s why he did it, ironically.

“It always does son,” Son. It was such a beautiful word. “But...then you heal. Then it doesn’t anymore.”

Healing. It sounded like something he could do.

“Who am I fighting?”

“Whoever’s telling you you’re not enough,”

“Myself?” Techno felt hurt. Confused.

“No buddy,” Phil ruffled the pink hair. “The other guy who’s telling you, right?”

Maybe it was because of the voices Techno understood more. It hardly mattered.

“Right.”

“And Techno?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell the truth mate. Lying only hurts more.”

Techno nodded, and he opened the gates.

\---

“Tommy those bandages,” Techno started off softly, a stern tone coming through with slight precaution. 

Tommy hesitantly turned his head to Techno, shrinking in on himself a little. He managed eye contact but he could feel himself tremoring. He tried not to show it. “Which ones?” He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Techno simply gave him and Phil a quirked eyebrow, which Phil returned with a tense and worried look. Phil didn’t want to talk about it so soon, but it left them so torn last night that they didn’t really have a choice. 

“The ones on your arms.” Tommy’s breath hitched. His eyes widened. His mind stopped. 

They knew. Phil and Techno knew about what Tommy was doing to himself as some way to escape and feel something, and he was selfish and stupid and self-centered, and they looked angry and angry meant he was going to get hurt again, he was going to get hit again and be left alone. He was in the tent again emptying, and he was in the ocean again drowning, and he was in that little cottage breaking and there was gunpowder everywhere. God he was so selfish and an idiot and he was a coward that should have made that jump and-

“Hey Tommy, you’re ok yeah? You’re with me and Techno bubba,” Someone was talking to him, the voice felt familiar and warm. It sounded like a home, felt like it.

“Hey bubs can you get some air through your nose? Do it for four buddy, in for four,” Tommy didn’t know who was talking to him but he listened to the voice, and he was failing to make it work, but he was trying-

“Good, good Tommy, you’re doing so well honey. Hold for seven ok? Count to seven and hold that breath there,” He held Phil’s shirt so tight he felt like he might rip it. He listened to the voice, Phil’s voice.

“Let it go honey, ok? Let it go and keep letting it out for eight. With me, yeah?” With him.

Tommy’s breaths were still a little ragged but he was certainly better than he had been a few minutes ago. Phil repeated the steps again with Tommy, coaxing him slowly into more and more of a steady breathing pattern. Techno had done nothing but watch and he felt like shit. He was always the cause of Tommy’s pain, wasn’t he? All he ever did was watch, never solving anything, yet somehow he had just watched his father help Tommy in the blink of an eye, with no help and almost no bad side effects.

Techno still doesn’t understand how he does it. 

He looked down to his hands, fiddling with a strand of hair that had come loose from the braid Phil had done for him in the morning. Nervous habit, Phil said once, commenting on the exact same action Techno was doing now years ago. Was it the same thing? Was Tommy decorating his arms with self-inflicted scars, really just the same thing? Was it just more violent? 

Techno almost scoffed at that thought. Yeah right, no one's more violent than him. Even the mere thought of Tommy causing it, well, likely, but never more than Techno. He looked up again to watch his brother, he looked at the bandages.

Never.

“Tommy, we can talk about this later, yeah?” Phil said it for Tommy’s good and a little for his own. God knows it hurt to see Tommy this fragile and not knowing what could break him. He looked over to Techno, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Phil didn’t know what to do, and in the end decided to join the other two in an uncomfortable heavy silence, thick with unspoken ‘why’s’ and concern. 

All three of them sat there quietly, nothing but the burning netherrack to break the silence ever so often, accompanied with the hum of the morning air. Phil almost fell asleep from the atmosphere, but a shift from below him startled him from his hazy state. He looked down to see Tommy prying himself away carefully from his embrace while shaking his head, and he immediately let go of him, giving him space. 

Tommy sits on the other side of the couch, trying to put as much distance between him, Phil and Techno as he comfortably could. He was trying to find the right words, but nothing felt good enough to say or right. Techno wanted to know, Phil wanted to know. Know why, how, when. Too many questions made Tommy’s mind spin and he just rushed out a very stern but meek, “No.”

It grabbed the other two’s attention, and Techno quickly quirked his head up to meet his brother’s face. Tommy didn’t stop looking at the couch and hugging his arms. There were two pairs of eyes on him and he couldn’t form words once more, it felt pathetic and trapping. “No,” Tommy started saying again, “I think we should...talk about it. Now.” Tommy felt as though he was speaking with his mouth full, biting at his words as though they would escape him. “I mean, the sooner the better, right?” Tommy tried to give a smile but it fell crooked shaped and felt wrong. He dropped it almost instantly. 

“Right…” Tommy kept looking down, he couldn’t handle the look on either of Techno or Phil’s faces. What would they react with after he explained? Fear, anger? Resentment, confusion? Or would they just not care? Would they instead throw him out, disgusted by his weakness? “So, to explain the-” he doesn’t finish his sentence, just gestures his arms instead. “Well, I guess it started in exile.” 

It all came pouring out after that. Exile, Ghostbur staying with him, Dream forcing him out of his armour, out of his freedom, time and time again into a dirt hole with a block of TNT. Losing himself in exile, losing Ghostbur in exile, Dream visiting, Dream staying, Dream being a good friend.

Dream hitting him.

He didn’t even bother to stop speaking when he heard the audible gasp from Phil, and from where his eyes rested he saw his pink-haired brother shift in his seat. Good, Tommy thought oddly. He felt strangely happy to see a reaction out of the two of them. To be seen, humanised. So he kept going, because it felt good.

Dream calling him names, Dream using him, toying. Waking up drowning, the ocean in his eyes draining into his lungs, the taste of salt and the lack of air in his lungs. More TNT, a bigger hole. The hole of Logstedshire tucked right into his heart just like L’Manburg was, just like Wilbur was. One tall, long pillar, to the sky, to space, to freedom. 

Sometimes Tommy still thinks he would have had that freedom if he hadn’t hit the water that night. Maybe he could have had that freedom in the gusts of wind up that high, the adrenaline he got from seeing the world so small, like it was at his fingertips. Except it was, wasn’t it? The world was at his fingertips, always slipping away and brushing past him, teasing him into believing he could really have any piece of it, like he deserved it at all.

He didn’t even realise he had gotten off track. 

...what had he been trying to explain again? 

He raised his head to meet his father’s eyes and was met with...guilt? Strange. Tommy wasn’t used to sympathy, pity sure, which he hated, but truly feeling sympathy for him? It was a new and unfamiliar situation. But it was more than just guilt behind those eyes of Phil’s. Years of knowing his father (and years of his father never knowing him) had taught him how his father would show his constant mix of complicated emotions. There was guilt behind those eyes, sure, but there was also anger, and fear, and such an utter misery it almost made Tommy ill. He was done with seeing sadness, he was done with the fakeness of it.

“So, I guess…” Tommy looked off to the side of Phil, deciding to stare at the walls of the cottage, still not being able to handle Phil’s strong gaze on him. It was more the concern Phil was showing that was uncomfortable than the eye contact itself. “I guess I felt...well nothing, actually,” He scoffed at the realisation. Reflection was a weird thing. “So I did what I thought would make me feel better. I started to make myself feel something. I don’t think it was the only reason, and-” he bit his lip trying to think how to express it. It was like looking at his present self and the boy at Logstedshire, and having to explain this small excuse of a kid to someone. “-maybe I think, some part of myself deserved it, after everything. I mean, Dream told me I did, and the real funny thing is-” Tommy felt a lump in his throat, and man the irony.

The irony of how none of it was really funny at all. 

Tommy tried to shove the lump down, but all it did was worsen and grow bigger, and suddenly it felt hard to speak once more, suddenly the world was hazy and tear-blurred. But no, he had to say his piece. For once he wanted to say his piece- “The funny thing is-” he says more softly, but still pushing through his words. “-he still punished me for that. He hurt me, for doing that to myself. Called me selfish, and well-” he laughed again, clinging onto his shirt tighter. It was true wasn’t it? He was selfish. Even Tubbo had said that, so it must be true. “-isn’t that just right? Selfish innit, selfish Tommy who doesn’t-”

There was a flurry of pink hair hurling towards Tommy and suddenly he was being engulfed in a hug by his older brother. He doesn’t get to see Techno’s face, but he knew he was crying all the same, feeling his shoulder getting wet from the warm tears. And Tommy is still angry at Techno. For hurting Tubbo, for lying to him and Wilbur, for not stopping Wilbur from his spiral, for destroying his home, the one thing he had put his heart and two lives into. He was still so passionately angry- but he needed someone, he needed warmth and a home.

“Don’t.” was the single word Techno said, his hands gripping Tommy’s shirt, with his head buried into Tommy’s shoulder. Techno’s heart felt so tight and ached to heart from Tommy’s explanation and he couldn’t take anything else he might say, so he prayed he didn’t say anything more. 

So for now, Tommy didn’t say anymore. He brushed away his brother’s deeds as he combed his hand through long pink hair, and held onto Techno like a lifeline. And maybe he really was one. Techno squeezed him back just as hard and it felt like a silent forgiveness hung over them.

Phil watched his two sons hugged and knew things weren’t fixed in a flash. He knew his family was a million tiny broken pieces with unexplainable scratches and cracks, an impossible puzzle almost looked to never be solved. But Phil was stubborn and loved his sons in his own broken way. Maybe that was the only way, trying and failing to love, but still trying. Phil looked at the remains of his family in pieces and knew things weren’t made right straight away, but like he loved, he would try and try again. Every chance given he would grasp it and try.

He shifted closer to Tommy and put his arm around him, and when Tommy didn’t flinch, he found himself smiling a little. It’s the small steps in trying. Tommy let Phil in and let the remains of his family hold him with warmth and a promise of home. 

Phil’s wings surrounded the three of them as the brothers calmed down. Techno rubbed his eyes vigorously before clearing his throat and going back to his monotone voice and perfect posture on the stool. Tommy smiled and chuckled a little at his response to the emotionally vulnerable situation. Phil kept his hands on Tommy, a little terrified of him disappearing. He gripped Tommy’s shoulder’s reassuringly. 

“We’re not mad at you Tommy,” Phil looked at his son, and gave him a sincere look. Tommy’s tense face relaxed a little. 

“We’re here for you now,” Techno inputted, and Phil gave a small smile to his other son for trying to be more open.

“Together, right? We’re here now and…” He felt guilty saying those words, knowing they had only been half-true. They hadn’t done things together in the past, but- he was here now, and this time he would stay. “We’ll get through this as a family, because we love you, Tommy,” Phil brushed his hand against Tommy’s scarred cheek, and his chest hurt from seeing his young son so broken in by war and conflict, but Tommy leaned into the touch and Phil instantly forgot about the thought altogether.

Tommy let himself lay himself more onto Phil, exhausted from the intense conversation. The older blonde brushed his fingers through the younger’s hair, and shifted a little on the couch to make both of them comfortable, letting the movements of his hands lull Tommy into sleep once more. Techno doesn’t move from his seat, and goes back to watching Tommy sleep. Phil found it endearing where others might find it creepy, but Techno always had a peculiar way of showing his care for his family. Brotherly love and protectiveness, he thinks. 

The crackle of the fire filled the silence again, but this time Phil and Techno didn’t feel the strain of last night’s heaviness on them as the silence loomed over them. 

Tommy feels himself on the edge of sleep and wants to stay awake more for this moment. He feels if he closes his eyes he’ll wake up back in his tent, away from safety and warmth, away from home. The hand of Phil’s resting on his head however, coax him to slumber and he lets himself give in. His heart feels a little lighter, and for the first time in months, Tommy falls asleep knowing he was going to be okay.

Phil sat there with the remains of his broken family and made a promise to fix it. He promised to keep trying and trying at loving and mending his family, even if he fails, even if it doesn’t fix, because the remains are together and Phil thinks that’s okay, he can work with that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! this took a month to finish because I've had school and my depression decided to take a huge swing at me, but I'm happy I finished this! stick around for more :)
> 
> also hopefully someone spotted the little 'things I remember' reference (I was very proud of myself lmao)
> 
> love you guys!! if you wanna come hang out and chat more my tumblr is @jjcantfuckingwrite
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> <333


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